


sitting in a tree - newtmas photographer au

by ava_kay



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: M/M, Photographer AU, Photography AU, high school newtmas, minho and brenda are lowkey a thing, minho ships newtmas, newtmas - Freeform, newtmas au, newtmas fluff, newtmas photographer au, thomas loves newts hands oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 09:30:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13567716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ava_kay/pseuds/ava_kay
Summary: “Just put my hands where you want them,” Newt says, holding them out to him. Thomas almost sighs. How many times does he have to look like an idiot in one day?Thomas takes Newt’s left hand gently, feeling how soft and warm it is in his own. His heart flutters at the contact, taking it and placing it next to his face, which he only now looks at. The look Newt is giving him makes him freeze with his hand still holding his.





	sitting in a tree - newtmas photographer au

Thomas takes a deep breath. This shouldn’t be any different from his previous subjects, right? You just go up, say hello, and ask. It’s not like he’s asking him if he can just take a picture of him with his phone to stare at himself. He’s established, a whole site dedicated to his work.

    Most of the time people come to _him_ now. Message him, ask him in class. After a few weeks of asking to take pictures of his fellow classmates, the first ones having been more than awkward, they started begging him to book them. He even charges now, twenty bucks for thirty photos. Unless, of course, it’s someone that he asks, someone special. Someone like Newt.

    Suddenly Newt’s locker seems oceans away. It’s no more than five or six steps ahead of him on the other side of the hall, but it feels like getting there is an impossible feat. It’s not like they haven’t spoken, but asking him to do this seems like a whole different ball game.

    He can hear Minho and Brenda’s voices in his head, teasing him and telling him to just go talk to him. Minho’s the only connection he has to Newt, considering Minho was his first friend when he’d moved here from England in fifth grade. They’d hung out as a group before, but he keeps to himself mostly. Never texts, no social media, nothing. He probably doesn’t even know Thomas is a photographer.

    _Get over there_ , Thomas tells himself. Finally, he walks the few steps forward as Newt is closing his locker. He goes to tap on his shoulder, but Newt beats him, turning around quickly and jumping back at the sight of Thomas.

    “Bloody hell, Tommy, nearly scared me half to death,” Newt says, putting a hand over his heart, his eyes wide.

    A great start.

    “I’m so sorry,” Thomas apologizes quickly, going to reach out and touch his arm, but stopping, awkwardly dangling his hands down to his sides. His nickname, ‘Tommy’, makes his heart do a weird thing that makes his stomach kinda turn and his speech kinda… useless. But he fights through it, trying to keep his mind in the conversation.

    Newt lets out a slight laugh, shaking his head and leaning his back against his locker, crossing his arms. “I’ll live, but you’ve got to learn how to announce yourself. What’d you need?”

    His voice makes hard not to melt, his accent thick despite being here a while. But once he can comprehend what he’d said, Newt’s wording confuses Thomas, making him unsure of whether or not to even ask after all that. But at this point, not asking would be even lamer.

    “I, uh… alright, well, I do this photography thing. I take pictures of kids in the school, put them on my site if they let me, build up a portfolio—“

    “I’ve heard, actually,” Newt says, nodding and doing his infamous pout with the raised eyebrows and bright eyes. “Seen a few of your pictures, too. You’re quite talented.”

    There goes the heart thing. “Thank you,” Thomas smiles sheepishly, anxiety eating away at him. “I’m trying to take a few really good ones to show colleges and I was wondering if you’d, you know… want to help me out.”

    He’d practiced _that_ for an hour in the mirror last night and all day today? _That_? Was that even proper English? He forgets every word he’d said immediately after they leave his mouth, focusing on nothing but searching Newt’s face for a reaction. But as usual, the boy is unreadable.

    “Like an assistant?” Newt asks.

    Thomas chuckles nervously. As… _nice_ a concept as that sounds to him, photographing him is the goal here.

    “No, uh, I was gonna ask if you would be in a photo or two,” Thomas says.

    Newt is suddenly unreadable again for what couldn’t be more than five seconds, but feels like a year to Thomas. Then, he laughs, running a hand through his hair. Obviously just a habit of his, but the act makes Thomas swallow roughly, shifting on his feet. It’s then that he decides that no human has ever made another human so nervous and self conscious before in the history of the world.

    “Me? Your model?” he asks, removing his hand from his hair and putting it in his jacket pocket. Thomas would know the greenish jacket anywhere, always spotting it in the hallway.

    “You don’t have to think about it that way, I mean it’s _more_ than that. Unless you’re into the idea, because that works too,” Thomas wills himself to stop talking, but the words refuse to not come out. “It’s totally fine if you don’t want to. I just figured there’d be no harm in—“

    Thomas cuts himself off when he notices the smirk plastered on Newt’s face, his head slightly tilted upwards, making his two or three inch height advantage feel like fifteen feet.

    “Sorry,” Thomas says simply, not even entirely sure what he’s apologizing for. Maybe just his general existence.

    “Don’t be,” Newt says, the smile not leaving. “I’ll do it. I’m not really a texter, so just tell me when you can.”

    The weight of the world simultaneously lifts and falls onto Thomas’ shoulders. On one hand, he said yes, but on the other, he said _yes_. That means at the very least they’ll be spending an hour alone together. An hour of small talk and Thomas awkwardly directing Newt around. Sure, the photos will be beautiful, but at what cost? His sanity, for sure.

    “Really? That’s awesome, I’ll let you know,” Thomas says, unsure of what to do. Does he walk away? Wait for Newt to leave?

    “Great,” Newt says, nodding once at Thomas again. If he could not smile and look like _that_ it’d be wonderful. He pushes himself off the wall and Thomas takes that as his cue to leave.

    “See you tomorrow, then,” he says, nodding back. He turns and starts walking down the hallway before he can embarrass himself further, putting his head down and replaying the conversation in his head. If Minho and Brenda saw that, he’d never live it down.

    Finally, Thomas looks up and to his left to see that, to his despair, Newt was walking the same way. _Awkward_.

    “We, uh, walk the same way to our cars, don’t we,” Thomas says. At this point the hall is empty so it’s just the two of them.

    “Yes, we do,” Newt says, looking at him. He’s never seen him look so smug before, but of course he is, he has the clear upper hand. It’s obvious he’s caught on, the thought embarrassing Thomas.

    They walk in uncomfortable- well, uncomfortable to Thomas- silence until they finally get outside, Thomas jogging the rest of the way to his car. Once he’s inside, he breaks into a smile. It was a mess, but he got Newt to agree. The most beautiful boy in school is going to be his model.

 

  
One week later, Thomas is in the school’s photography studio, zoned out before getting flicked in the side of the head.

    “Hey, Ansel Adams, stop stressing. It’ll be fine, this is _your_ territory now, you’re the photographer,” Brenda says, putting a hand on his shoulder.

    “I’d be nervous too, I mean, this is his actual fantasy coming to life,” Minho says.

    “Shut up, Minho,” Thomas says, shaking his leg and looking up at the clock. Five minutes.

    “Listen I’ve known Newt for, what, seven years now? He’s super chill and super nice, you have nothing to worry about. You’ve known him just as long as I have. Except _I’m_ not in love with him,” Minho says. Brenda laughs at that one, moving to sit next to Thomas.

    “Thank you for the support, means a lot,” Thomas says.

    “You’re thinking too much. Treat him how you’d treat any other model, or how you’d treat us. You’re only making it weird because you like him,” Brenda says.

    Thomas blushes. He’s long since given up on arguing them on it. They’re jerks but they’re not wrong. It was an encounter with Newt that made him realize he was bi in the first place.

    They were all at laser tag for Minho’s birthday in sophomore year, and Newt and Thomas were on the same team. It was a separate team from Minho, so while Thomas was looking out for him, he was yanked by his shirt into a little plastic cave. A little _too_ little.

    He was pressed up against Newt, their faces inches from each other.

    “Minho was about to get you,” Newt said, his eye contact that close up making Thomas feel like he was going to explode.

    “Thanks,” Thomas said. _Oh, god, this shouldn’t be this… what is this?_ He couldn’t tell if he wanted to run as soon as possible, or stay there forever.

    He smiles, nodding once as a response. The two of them keep still for a minute, as close as close can be and Thomas thanking his lucky stars that it’s dark in there. Last thing he’d need is Newt seeing him blush.

    Newt finally looked around the corner and nodded. “I don’t see him there anymore.”

    “Okay,” Thomas couldn’t think clearly, staring at Newt.

    “Wait, I found him, follow me,” Newt said, inching out of the cave. Thomas swallowed his disappointment and followed, only to get shot two minutes later. Minho won the match, but Thomas was a bit distracted. His slight suspicions had been confirmed. There was no way he was straight.

    “Earth to Thomas!” Thomas is snapped out of it again, looking at Brenda, who only laughs and shakes her head at him. “We’re gonna head off, try not to do _that_ with Newt.”

    “Have fun, dude,” Minho says, before stopping. “Also… I know something you don’t know,” he adds with a wink before walking out, not letting Thomas get another word in.

    Rolling his eyes at them, he busies himself, setting his camera in place and going over the locations he wanted to take him in his head. But his thoughts keep circulating back to laser tag two years ago and trying to figure out what Minho was talking about. What could he possibly know? He must be messing with him.

    Suddenly the door opens and Thomas quickly turns to see Newt walking in, a duffle bag in his hand.

    “Hi,” Thomas says, regretting thinking about the laser tag story so much. That’s all he sees when he looks at Newt, the memory of being close to him and the feeling in his chest when he was.

    Newt doesn’t talk for a moment, looking hesitant before finally speaking. “I brought along some clothes, like you asked,” he says, holding the bag up.

    “Let’s get to it then,” Thomas says, hiding his awkwardness the best he can.

    Newt sets down the bag and opens it, Thomas hesitant to look through, feeling like he’s invading his privacy.

    “It’s the most fancy stuff I have, really,” Newt says.

    Thomas finally starts looking through, trying to get past the fact that it’s _Newt’s_ clothes. He’s worn these, and now Thomas is touching them. It feels personal. _I’m such a creep._

    As it turns out, Newt owns a lot of nice things. Thomas picks out a few vests, jackets, shirts, two or three pairs of pants and shoes, then a suit. Thomas turns back to Newt, who’s sitting in the chair he had been sitting in before he’d arrived.

    “I think we’re good. Can I get a few shots of you in what you’re wearing now? For reference, learning your angles and such,” Thomas says, though it’ll be unnecessary. Every angle will be a good one.

    Newt looks down at himself. He’s wearing grayish cargo pants, a flannel, and a white t-shirt underneath. Definitely a look most people couldn’t pull off, but then again, Newt is not most people.

    “This?” he asks, getting up. “You’re the boss,” he says, shrugging.

    “Just sit on the block in the center,” Thomas points to the backdrop set up in front of the camera, just a plain white one. He won’t need a lot of fancy backgrounds, Newt’s enough art on his own.

    Newt sits down, and Thomas gets behind the camera. He’s more comfortable here, viewing him through a lens. It makes it feel less real, and like he’s in control of the situation. Like Brenda said, it’s _his_ territory now.

    “Should I just…” Newt trails off, making Thomas want to smile. He seems just as uncomfortable in front of a camera as Thomas is without one.

    “Just move so your body is facing the window, then every thirty seconds move more towards the right til you’re facing the other direction. Tell me about your day,” Thomas says. He does it with everyone, they talk and he takes pictures, figuring out how they look the best. _Newt is no different, Newt is no different, Newt is no different._

    Newt does as he’s asked, turning towards the window, adjusting his posture so he’s not slouching.

    “Just do whatever feels normal,” Thomas says. “How was school?”

    After a second, Newt answers. “School was fine. That’s a lie, actually, I hated every minute of it.”

    “Something happen?” Thomas asks, getting shots of his profile, shots from above, shots from below, shots of the back of his head.

    “Not in particular, no,” Newt says.

    “You can talk to me,” Thomas says, Newt shifting so that he’s facing the front a little more.

    “I just hate it. If this wasn’t senior year, I’d be going mad. I get alright grades, nobody bullies me or anything like that, but everything about it is just so tedious and boring. Not to mention stressful,” Newt says, seconds later shaking his head. “I just completely rambled to you, I’m sorry.”

    “Don’t be sorry, it’s perfect,” Thomas says, getting a little closer and zooming in on his features. Troubled eyes, creases when he’s serious. “How’s everything else? How’s Lizzy?”

    Newt shifts again, almost completely facing the front as his eyes light up more at the mention of his little sister. “She’s doing quite well, actually, she just won her science fair.”

    Thomas makes sure to get a lot of pictures of him like this, a smile spreading onto his face.

    “What’d she do for it?” Thomas asks.

    “To be completely honest, I don’t even know,” Newt says. “She’s the smart one. It had something to do with math. Not my strong suit. But she’s been working on it for three months, so I’m proud.”

    Thomas smiles, loving how great of a big brother Newt is. “That’s really sweet, I’m glad she won.” _That’s really sweet? Why’d I say that?_

    “Thank you,” Newt smiles. If what Thomas said was weird, clearly he didn’t notice. He shifts again, facing the front this time.

    He’s sitting with his elbows on his knees, leaning forward, and it takes every ounce of willpower for Thomas not to take a picture of his hands. Is there a way to do that without being creepy? Probably not.

    Newt’s eyes avoid the camera, looking down or out. Thomas gets a couple of shots like that, then pauses. Luckily, he’s got a trick for this too.

    “Look at me,” Thomas says, placing head above the camera.

    He obliges, Thomas getting a picture of his face like that before he winks at Newt.

    It’s one of his techniques to get a reaction out of people, but with Newt it makes him feel like he’s gonna collapse. Luckily, Newt laughs, Thomas ducking his face behind the camera to get photos. _And_ to hide the blush he’s terrified of.

    Newt looks into the camera lens and winks back, Thomas laughing and getting a picture, heat rising in his cheeks. That’s definitely one he’s going to use.

    Neither of their smiles go away as Thomas continues taking pictures, another two minutes or so going by before Newt is finally facing the other side, the two of them making small talk about their days.

    Thomas notices a piece of Newt’s hair has fallen onto his face while he’s taking a more close up picture, and without thinking, he reaches out. He stops his hand when it’s right next to his face, freezing.

    Last second he pulls back and points. “You… your hair, it, uh, fell,” Thomas says.

    Newt’s looking him in the eye, Thomas once again failing to read his expression. But he almost looks… nervous. He reaches up and smooths his hair back slowly, not looking away from Thomas.

    Thomas nods, moving back and taking one final picture of Newt before standing up, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest.

    “I think we can move on to the actual shoot now.”

 

  
“This good?”

    Thomas turns at the sound of Newt’s voice and takes a sharp breath at his sight. He’d picked out the outfit, yet for some reason it still shocks him.

    Newt’s in black pants, black boots, and his white t-shirt, except the sleeves have been rolled up and his hair is slicked back. To top it all off, he’s holding a leather jacket, making him look like he’s stepped out of the 50’s. Suddenly Minho’s remark about his fantasy coming to life pops into his mind, not wanting to admit he was right.

    “Tommy?” Newt says, a smile forming on his face.

    “Oh, yes, yeah, sorry,” Thomas shakes his head. “There’s a brick wall outside we can get some shots in front of.”

    “Sounds good,” Newt says.

    Thomas packs up his camera and tripod and they head to the exit in the back of the room, conveniently located considering how awkward Thomas is right now. Once they’re outside, he leads them to the wall, setting his tripod down.

    “Where do you want me?” Newt asks.

    _Bad question_. “Just in front of the camera, lean on the wall if you’d like,” Thomas answers.

    Newt stands in front of the wall and slings his jacket over his shoulder, putting his other hand in his pocket and crossing his right leg over his left. He’s a complete natural.

    “I feel like I should be smoking or something,” he laughs.

    Thomas laughs too, trying to cover his nerves as he gets behind his camera.

    “Alright, just look into the camera and do whatever you’re comfortable with. Whatever feels right,” Thomas says.

    First, Newt looks away for a moment, but then finally he looks at the camera, tilting his chin up slightly and looking serious, reminding Thomas of when he asked him to do this. Thomas takes the picture, and Newt relaxes more, doing a few more shots of him being serious, looking off, looking up, looking at the camera.

    After a minute of that, Newt smiles at the ground, Thomas taking the photo. Then, he looks up and winks at the camera again, making Thomas laugh and die a little inside.

    Time starts moving quickly after that, finishing that and moving on to Newt wearing the suit, shooting that one in front of the backdrop again. After that one, they do one with Newt standing in various parts of the school in blue jeans and a sweater- or as he put it, his favorite ‘cashmere jumper’- the two of them joking around a lot and laughing between shots.

    The more time that goes by, the more comfortable Newt clearly gets, genuinely looking like a model with his poses and movements and the faces he makes. It fills Thomas’ heart, watching him be confident and getting to be the one making it happen.

    By the time they get outside, Newt in a dress shirt with a sweater vest over it and brown pants with dress shoes, the two of them are equally open, the perfect balance between messing around and getting stunning shots. Thomas positions Newt in front of a tree with a bunch of beautiful pink and white flowers budding from it, smiling at how beautiful it already looks. How beautiful _he_ looks.

    “I have an idea, but you’ll have to trust me,” Thomas says.

    Newt doesn’t seem to have a problem with that, nodding. “Go for it.”

    Thomas sets his camera down on the tripod and walks towards Newt.

    “So you’re gonna get on that lower branch,” Thomas starts, putting his hand on the branch almost chest level to him and pushing, making sure it’s sturdy. “Then we’ll take it from there.”

    Newt puts his hands on it, testing it as well before turning and trying to launch himself onto it, failing and falling back to the ground. He shakes his head and tries again, the results not changing.

    He curses under his breath, leaning against the branch. “You didn’t happen to bring a ladder with you, did you?”

    Thomas laughs, walking forward. “I can help you, if you’d like.”

    He tries to come off as confident, as if the thought of touching Newt and holding his hips doesn’t make him want to crawl into a ball and die. Newt looks a little too chill about it, shrugging.

    “Worth a shot,” he says. Thomas’s head spins. It’s not much, he’ll just boost him up. That’s all. Nothing more.

    Thomas closes the space between him til he’s in front of Newt, Newt’s hands back on the branch. Not meeting his eyes, Thomas puts his hands on Newt’s waist.

    “Okay, you rea—“

    “Tommy, do you remember laser tag in sophomore year?” Newt cuts him off, Thomas looking into his eyes now. He actually looks unmistakably nervous this time, his eyes searching Thomas’ face. It throws Thomas off, all of his thoughts vanishing.

    And just like that, he’s back. Back in that little cave, face to face with the boy that simultaneously makes him a mess of nerves and more at peace than he’s ever been.

    “I do,” Thomas says, his face probably mirroring Newt’s nerve-wise. Why would he bring that up? How does he remember?

    Newt doesn’t answer for a moment, each second passing feeling like a century for Thomas. “Sorry, I interrupted, I’m ready,” Newt says quickly, looking away.

    Thomas feels a pain in his chest but lets it go. “Alright, uh, three, two…”

    With the two of them combined, Thomas is able to get Newt onto the branch, moving away once he’s sitting. After that interaction, the next part is going to be awkward.

    “Great, okay, uh, just hold onto the branch with your right hand, and with the left, reach up and touch one of the smaller ones and look off that way,” Thomas stumbles through his directions.

    Newt does as he’s told, Thomas taking the picture and then a few more, letting Newt do whatever he feels like. It’s not as awkward as he thought, until he realizes what he wants to do.

    “Do you think I could get on there somehow?” Thomas asks.

    It takes a few minutes, but eventually the two of them manage to get Thomas and his camera on the branch with Newt. They have to change positions to do so, both of them straddling the branch which proves to be more than a little bit uncomfortable, but Thomas ignores it.

    He backs up a little, then demonstrates what he wants Newt to do, running his hand through his hair. Newt obliges, Thomas taking the picture before getting closer again.

    Thomas tries demonstrating another pose, but can’t quite recreate it while holding the camera, Newt furrowing his eyebrows at him.

    “Just put my hands where you want them,” Newt says, holding them out to him. Thomas almost sighs. How many times does he have to look like an idiot in one day?

    Thomas takes Newt’s left hand gently, feeling how soft and warm it is in his own. His heart flutters at the contact, taking it and placing it next to his face, which he only now looks at. The look Newt is giving him makes him freeze with his hand still holding his.

    Newt’s eyes are wide and almost look… hopeful. His lips are slightly parted and Thomas notices a blush on his cheeks, probably not as bad as his. He looks angelic, absolutely beautiful surrounded by flowers and making Thomas feel like they’re the only two people in the world.

    Thomas fights the urge to take a photo of him, knowing it’d ruin the moment. But he wants it to last forever.

    It couldn’t be more than twenty or thirty seconds, but Thomas uses the time to study his face, really feel how his hand feels against his, making the most of the perfectness of it. Finally, Newt does something Thomas doesn’t even slightly expect. He moves his hand so it’s over Thomas’, making it so his hand is now lightly pressing onto the side of Newt’s face.

    “Did he tell you?” Newt asks softly. Thomas lets out a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding, trying to answer Newt’s question.

    “Who?” Thomas asks, the only word he can find in the hurricane that is currently his brain.

    “Minho,” Newt says, both of them barely speaking above a whisper. They don’t need to be loud, considering how close they are.

    “Minho? Tell me what?” Thomas asks.

    Newt smiles. “I was hoping he’d break his promise and do this for me,” he says, leaning into Thomas’ touch.

    This whole thing feels like a dream to Thomas. It cannot possibly be real. Any second now Newt is gonna swat him away and ask him what he’s doing. He hasn’t shown any previous interest… has he?

    “He told me he knew something I didn’t know,” Thomas remembers. Newt nods, still holding Thomas’ hand.

    “That bastard,” Newt laughs. “Too good a friend.”

    Thomas would laugh, but he’s too busy trying to decode what Newt is saying. His promise?

    “What was the promise?” Thomas asks.

    Newt keeps his sweet smile on his face, Thomas swearing he sees his gaze switch from his eyes to his lips and back quickly before he speaks. “I’m about to make a bloody fool of myself, aren’t I?”

    Thomas shakes his head. “Never.”

    “Alright then,” Newt says. He shifts in his spot and leans a little more forward, the smile turning into a smirk as he looks up at him. “I’m not good with this sort of thing.”

    “Neither am I,” Thomas says. “I’ve never…”

    “Neither have I,” Newt says. “So I think we’re on the same page here then?”

    Thomas laughs now. “I’m gonna be honest, I never know what’s going on.”

    “Okay, let’s try it this way,” Newt says. He takes his hand off of Thomas’ and reaches forward, putting it on the back of Thomas’ neck.

    He doesn’t move right away, the two of them taking each other in for a few seconds before they lean forward at the same time, crashing their lips together.

    Thomas cups the side of Newt’s face as they kiss, feeling Newt’s hand slide down to the side of his neck, then his chest. It’s not a hard kiss, but not a soft one either, the only word coming to Thomas’ mind being _deep_. It feels right, like that’s all he’s been meant to do.

    The connection between them is incredible, Thomas finally understanding what the movies described as ‘sparks’. But it’s more than that, it’s a fire igniting in him unlike any he’s ever known or thought could exist.

    For a minute that’s all he feels. Warmth, happiness… Newt.

    When they have to pull away for air, Thomas keeps him there, the two of them putting their foreheads together as they look into each other’s eyes and smile.

    “How long?” Thomas breathes, brushing his thumb over Newt’s cheek.

    “A long time,” Newt says. “It’s always been there, but every time we’d all hang out I’d just find myself… drawn to you. Looking at you, listening to you. I didn’t realize I was gay til we were in freshman year, so that’s when I knew I’d kinda developed a thing.”

    Thomas laughs. “What you mentioned before, laser tag, you made me realize I was bi,” he says, his face already flushed so not having to worry about blushing in front of Newt.

    Newt’s blushing too, now widening his eyes. “Really? Glad to help, then,” he jokes.

    “Why didn’t you say anything until now?” Thomas asks.

    “I figured you had no interest. Then the other day you came over to my locker and stuttered through your words, asking me to be a model, and it made me wonder. So I talked to Minho yesterday,” Newt says, sliding his hand back up Thomas’ chest and around his neck, putting his other one there too and resting his arms on his shoulders.

    The gesture makes Thomas giddy, wanting nothing more than to just kiss him and talk to him and be close to him for as long as he possibly can. “What’d you say?”

    “Well, I told him that we were doing this today and he said he knew. Then he said something about you being _really_ excited about it, and I asked him why, so he got all quiet. That’s when I told him I had a thing for you, which was _extremely_ difficult for me, by the way. He seemed ecstatic about it and I made him promise not to say anything. But I figured he’d crack and tell you so I wouldn’t have to sit there and… well, do this,” Newt says.

    Thomas kisses him on his forehead, then the tip of his nose, and then his lips, the kiss less rushed this time. Newt pulls him closer and Thomas’ hand moves into the back of Newt’s head, running through his hair and playing with it, Newt smiling.

    When they pull away, Thomas smiles at him. “Stay like that for me?”

    He quickly picks up his camera and Newt laughs, looking off as Thomas takes the photo. His lips are puffy, his pupils are big and his hair is just the right amount of messy. He’s perfect.

    After it’s taken, Newt puts his hands up in front of his face, covering it. Thomas goes to protest, but takes the picture. He wanted a picture of Newt’s hands, didn’t he?

    Newt puts his hands down and looks at Thomas. “I’m sorry for being so awkward all day,” he chuckles.

    “ _You_?” Thomas asks. “I haven’t been able to form a sentence.”

    “You’re cute when you’re nervous,” Newt says. “It’s one of the things that made me like you so much.”

    Thomas puts his camera down, Newt’s words making him light up. Newt finds _him_ cute.

    “I’ve always wanted to photograph you. Everything about you is perfect, so it’s easy to get a good picture, but getting good enough pictures to really show your personality off has been tough. But I think I just got pretty good ones,” Thomas says. “Thank you for doing this. Even if it was just to test a theory,” he jokes.

    Newt shakes his head, smirking. “I’m happy to help. Theory or no theory.”   
  
    “This doesn’t feel real,” Thomas says, hating how lame he sounds.

    “It doesn’t, does it?” Newt says. “But it is.”

    They gaze into each other’s eyes for a moment before Thomas speaks. “Hold on, I have an idea.”

    He hands Newt his camera and takes out his phone, dialing and then waiting, a grin on his face.

    “Hello?” Minho answers.

    “I’m here too!” Brenda yells from the background.

    Thomas puts them on speaker. “Hey guys,” he says, before nodding to Newt.

    “Hi,” he laughs, picking up the camera.

    “What’s up?” Minho asks, Thomas hearing a smile on his face.

    “I know what you know,” Thomas says, looking up at Newt in time to see him taking a picture of him.

    “Oh my god,” Brenda says.

    “Had to tell him myself, thanks to you,” Newt says.

    “I have an idea for your first date,” Minho yells, Thomas getting butterflies at the word ‘date’.

    “What’s that?” Thomas asks.

    “Laser tag,” Minho says, Newt and Thomas looking up at each other.

    “We’ll keep it in mind,” Newt says, his eyes not leaving Thomas’.

    “Gotta go,” Thomas says, hanging up and accidentally cutting off Brenda while asking them to tell her everything later. “First date, huh?”

    “Do I have to ask you to be my boyfriend properly now?” Newt asks.

    Thomas nods smugly. “Words and all,” he says.

    Newt rolls his eyes jokingly, taking Thomas’ hand in his.

    “Will you be my boyfriend, Tommy?”

    Thomas kisses Newt as a reply, Newt kissing back but laughing after a moment.

    “If I have to ask with words you have to answer with words,” he says.

    Thomas pulls back and squeezes Newt’s hand before taking his camera back and pointing it at him, getting ready to take a photo.

    “Yes,” he replies.

    The photo he takes of Newt’s beaming face is priceless.

 


End file.
